Safe
by Lycosolen
Summary: After learning about Billy and when something happens to Craig, Deran is emotionally spiralling out of control.


**Author's notes and warnings:**

This is a short story about what could happen at the end of episode 3x11(based on the promo). Obviously, this won't happen, but I needed some context to get Deran to the point he is in this story.

I apologize in advance: I purposefully wrote Deran out of character, I guess, since he's emotionally all over the place.

I feel like this is kind of unfinished in some ways, so I might get back to it at some point, I'm not sure; I guess we'll see.

Anyway... good reading... hopefully!

* * *

Everything was dark; his eyes were probably closed.

He felt a hand in his hair, the fingertips gently caressing his scalp, and then it was gone.

He was lying on something smooth and surrounded by something soft, directly against his skin – was he naked?

He heard small sounds in the background, as if someone was moving around, trying not to make too much noise.

He tried to move, but didn't have the energy to do so.

* * *

Time passed, but he didn't know how much. A hand was on his brow, a thumb stroking the skin there tenderly.

He heard a voice talking quietly, but he didn't understand the words. He swore he recognized it, though, but he couldn't make himself remember whom it belonged to. He just knew that he was safe here, wherever _here_ was, surrounded by this warm and soothing presence.

He wanted to move, to lean into the touch before it disappeared, but he still couldn't; every part of his body seemed heavy with exhaustion. He went to sleep again.

* * *

He didn't know how much time had passed, but the hand on his forehead had disappeared and he didn't feel anyone around him. He still didn't know where he was.

He needed to move, _now_. His eyes were moving under his eyelids and he could actually feel a few fingers moving under the… blanket?… covering him. He took a deep breath, felt it fill his lungs slowly, but surely.

Finally, his eyes opened into slits, scanning his surroundings. There was some light coming from somewhere, but it was dimmed, so it didn't hurt his eyes. He was in a room… a familiar one. He frowned, his brain trying to find out where he was. He moved his right hand, getting it out from under… the covers; he was on a bed, a soft pillow under his head.

What had happened to him? He still didn't know, but he wasn't panicking – yet, anyway. _He knew this room_. _He felt safe here._ Whatever had happened couldn't be that bad, could it?

He breathed slowly and tried to move his legs, or at least his feet… his toes, maybe? Yes, those seemed to work. Good… He wasn't in pain, he didn't seem to have a spinal injury or anything, so… _what had happened?_

He heard quiet footsteps coming towards him. He didn't know what to do: should he fake sleeping or…? The footsteps were coming closer already. He heard that voice again, clearer; a low, calm and soothing voice. Then he saw _him_ , kneeling on the floor next to the bed, a hand coming back on his forehead, the other one squeezing his gently.

"Deran…?" the voice whispered. "Are you awake?"

It took him a few seconds before registering the question. He wanted to nod, but his head was still heavy, so he mumbled instead.

"Mmm…" That's all he could do right now.

His eyes scanned the person next to him, this one person who made him want to fight this state of… shock?… he seemed to be in, so he could make the fear and concern disappear from this man's eyes and face. So he opened his mouth and tried to speak.

"A… Adri… an…" He coughed; his throat was dry.

The other man took his hands away from his body. Deran wanted to scream, but he couldn't. _Don't go_ , his mind was shouting, but it was useless and unnecessary: one hand returned under the side of his head – he was lying on his left side, he'd just realized it – and lifted it gently. The other hand brought a glass of water towards his mouth; he sipped at it gratefully, just enough to soothe his sore throat. Then the glass disappeared while he blinked slowly and his head returned onto the pillow, the hand supporting it staying on the back of his head, making small circles on his nape.

He wanted to close his eyes again, but he forced himself not to; Adrian still seemed worried and he didn't like it when the other man looked like that.

"What… what happened?" he whispered.

The older man flinched a little, looking even more anxious. His eyes were still slightly haunted, but he seemed a little better, seeing Deran was awake and responding… somewhat.

"What do you remember?" Adrian said gently, now sitting on the floor, his other hand coming back to intertwine his fingers with his on the bed.

Deran swallowed, frowning, trying to remember. He closed his eyes briefly and something flashed behind his eyelids.

 _The job… Lucy… the money… Smurf hiding behind a car with J, him shooting like a mad man, Craig…_

"Craig!" he sobbed, unable to stop himself.

He buried his face in the covers of the bed, a few tears escaping his eyes, rolling onto his cheeks.

"No… no… no… no… no…" he cried softly, trying to regain his breath.

The hand on his head, and the one in his own hand, disappeared, leaving him empty and scared. He tried to reach out for that contact again, but he soon discovered he didn't need to; the bed dipped under an added weight on his left and he felt the same hands turning his body so it laid on his right side. His head immediately buried itself into a shoulder, strong arms surrounding him, anchoring him to the here and now. He tried to move his hands so he could reach out to Adrian, reach out to this man who was everything to him, but he couldn't; they were stuck under the covers, and he suddenly felt trapped. He sobbed, his breaths coming in short, painful gasps, until the other man freed him, returning his arms around his shaking form. His own hands gripped the taller man almost painfully, one around his back and the other fisted into his shirt.

He heard Adrian again.

"Shh… he's going to be okay. Craig's going to be just fine. J called me a little earlier; they're taking good care of him."

He felt one hand going back behind his head, applying a gentle pressure there, reassuring him one more time of the other man's presence; the other hand was firmly attached to his back, making slow and comforting circles there – he was definitely naked, the unusual thought echoing through his mind in this intimate moment. Deran felt the press of lips against the side of his head and then Adrian's forehead was solidly pressed against his.

"Do you remember what happened after?" the older man asked him.

Deran opened his eyes, calmer than he was a few minutes ago. He didn't look at Adrian, he couldn't, so he settled his gaze on the fingers of his left hand, which were now slowly caressing the surfer's neck.

"No…" he murmured; talking didn't help him right now. It was like his throat was closing in, but he tried and succeeded to take a deep breath, inhaling Adrian's scent which calmed him down even more.

The hand on his back stopped making circles, but stayed there – a solid and reassuring presence.

"After what happened to Craig, J called me; he told me how bad you were and that he was bringing you here after leaving your brother and Smurf in Mexico so he could get treated there. You were so out of it…"

The hand left his back and moved to the left side of his face. He leaned unconsciously into the touch, closing his eyes, needing the contact. He felt a kiss on his forehead before Adrian continued, worry seeping into his voice.

"You've been here all day, Deran, in and out of consciousness. Your eyes were opened sometimes, but it was like you weren't there at all. Man, you really scared me this time!"

Frowning slightly, Deran didn't know what to say. Adrian had been taking care of him all day? What day was it? Wasn't the other man supposed to leave to continue the surf competition?

Deran opened his eyes briefly, catching sight of the older man's suitcase in one corner of the room, and sighed miserably.

"Man… tell me you didn't miss your flight because of this…" _Because of me_ , he thought sadly.

"It doesn't matter, Deran," Adrian told him.

"But…"

"This was more important, okay? _You_ are more important."

He didn't know what to say to that; this was the first time he remembered someone ever telling him that and he suddenly felt overwhelmed by an onslaught of different emotions. He buried his head in Adrian's shoulder one more time, a tear rolling down his face. He wanted to say so much to the other man, things like _'I don't deserve you after what I did'_ , _'You shouldn't be doing this for me… I'm not worth it_ _…_ _but_ I love you _for doing it'_ , but he couldn't yet.

Adrian's arms went around Deran's back again, sensing the emotional turmoil inside him.

"We'll talk about it later, alright?" he whispered into his ear before resting his own head against Deran's. "You should get some real sleep, okay?"

Sleep… yes… it probably was a good idea… until he felt Adrian moving slightly, as if he was leaving him. His grip around him became like steel; he didn't want to be alone right now.

"Hey… Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, Deran. Just making ourselves more comfortable, alright?"

He felt the older man turning himself onto his back, bringing Deran's head onto his chest, one of his hands still resting on his back, warm and protective.

"Sleep, now. I'll still be here when you wake up, okay?"

At this point, he could only nod weakly, physically and emotionally drained by everything that had happened in the last few days, and he slept without any trouble, reassured by the presence at his side.


End file.
